


Angel at my Door [AU]

by hurricanewinds



Series: Handicap AU [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Autism, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Low IQ, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental handicaps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricanewinds/pseuds/hurricanewinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Handicap AU"<br/>All in all Chris felt he was excluded from the natural order of things, as if fate was against him in his want of achieving a normal relationship. He hated being treated differently, when he could pick up on that he was being discriminated against, but more so he didn’t want to imagine his friends alone. No matter how difficult a time someone has interacting with others or caring for themselves, everybody needs somebody, he felt. <i>'And Tom needs me.'</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Days 1 and 2

**Author's Note:**

> Sensitivity warning: This subject is touchy to some and seen as taboo to talk about. I enjoy writing about unusual ideas and the blossoming friendship of two people with hardships is interesting to me. I did a lot of research and have had hands on experience with people with mental handicaps but I DO NOT claim what's below as medically accurate, just a good shot in the dark. I wish not to offend anyone and if you have negative feedback please explain exactly what bothers you instead of "don't talk about this it's offensive!1" This is a work in progress so any feedback is helpful. Thanks and enjoy.

The sounds of grunting and panting filled the room. An overweight man on a treadmill huffed and puffed, the _swish swish swish_ of his clothed thighs making a methodical rhythm. He was staring intently at the TV mounted in the corner of the gym as it broadcast some sort of cooking show, an overly smiley woman mixing batter. Liam added another weight to the bar before standing over his older brother's head to spot him. Chris took a deep breath and exhaled, lifting the heavy weights over and over.

Sweat rolled into Chris' left eye and he grimaced and blinked it away finishing his repetition with a heavy groan. Liam looked down and grinned, taking the bar and placing it on its rest before slapping his hand over Chris' and pulling him up so they could switch. "Good job mate," Liam said, sitting on the bench press and laying down. He screwed up his face and threw a hand up to swat at his brother’s thigh. "Step back a bit; you can out-lift me but you don't have to put your balls in my face about it." Chris exploded with a deep hearty laugh and stood back a little more, watching Liam break into a smirk as well.

Adjusting the weights to his brother's instruction, Chris stood there torn between watching him work out and the brownies being prepared on the large screen. He idly surveyed the exercise equipment, noting that the swishing noise was retreating down the hall along with the fat man, now pink and hobbling to the changing room.

By the water fountain was a fit woman on an elliptical machine. Despite the vigorous activity she had chosen to wear makeup and her dark brown ponytail swung in a steady beat behind her head. She broke out into a toothy smile, eyes squinting mischievously as Chris watched her. He returned the smile before looking back to the tv and then his brother's struggle on his final rep. Taking the bar from him, Chris put it on the rest and slapped Liam on the back as he sat up, not quite ready for the heavy hand on his soaked shirt. "Good job!" Chris bellowed happily before pulling a sheepish face. Chris spoke in a naturally low tenor and Liam was very keen to remind him about using his 'inside voice' when excited. 

"Come on then. What's next?" asked Liam, taking a moment to wipe down the press with a damp rag. He and Chris had been coming to the gym every other day for roughly the past month so the question was more out of habit than wanting to know.

"Cool down." Chris answered, wiping his sweaty hands on his black sleeveless shirt. A stray hair had come loose from his bun so he tucked it behind his ear with a sniff.

"That's right. Go ahead and start, I need to take a dump."

Most of the gym had cleared out as it was nearing the final hours before closing. The room was peppered with pudgy after-work office women avoiding eye contact with each other and a few young men milling around the barbell rack speaking loudly about 'squats and oats.’ Chris watched his brother retreat before moving to the empty treadmills, stopping first to take a long drink from the water fountain.

"Hey there," a feminine voice called from his side. Rising from his bent position he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his large arm muscles bunching with the movement. The woman a foot away on the elliptical machine was talking to him. She was about his age but he towered over her in height. Her dark hair was bouncing side to side and he looked at it before glancing at her face and replying.

"Hi."

His short reply and rough voice earned him another toothy smile and the woman slowed her pace on the machine in preparation for a conversation. Chris studied the mole on her cheek absently, looking from her to the treadmills and back.

"So. It looks like your workouts are paying off," she said with a pointed nod of her head. Chris looked at her passively and smiled a little. She tried again. "I just try to stay fit but it looks like you're going all out. Your arms I mean. They look good."

Chris understood this time and grinned, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Thank you,” he said brightly. The woman picked up something beneath his Aussie accent but he was too hot to let a little slur get in the way.

“May I touch?” she all but purred. He grinned and flexed his arms theatrically for her and she let out a flirty, girlish giggle, freeing a hand and giving his bicep a firm squeeze. “Wow. Really nice.”

"I'm Jaimie by the way.”

He took the social cue and patted his chest. "Chris,” he introduced himself, his smile lingering as he looked from her lips to her mole and then her deep hazel brown eyes. Jaimie bit her lip in flirtation and eyed him right back. He had bold eyebrows and narrow blue eyes flanked with spiky eyelashes that gave him a hunting animal quality.

"I don't normally come here during this time of night. Our meeting must be fate," she flirted, voice rich with confidence and only a little strained from her exercising.

Despite what she read as interest, Jaimie saw Chris' eyes shift from her to the treadmills again and jumped on the moment. "Is there a certain time you come so we can talk more? I could use a workout partner.” She tilted her head down and looked up through her lashes. “Or we can get coffee. I'd...love to get to know you." She finished the sentence with a winning smile and brought the machine to a full stop, stepping out of the foot skies and feeling the burn in her core. Off the machine she was even shorter than him so Chris smiled down at her, nodding his head before running a hand over his hair absently.

"My brohther Liam bringhs me on Tueshdays, Thersdays, and Saturdays. I dohn't drink coffee but my older brohther Luke does. I live with him. Luke." Chris answered, folding his arms over his chest and swinging his right hand in conversation. He had a sudden urge to touch her ponytail and it derailed his thoughts. She should come to their house and have coffee with Luke and his wife and let him touch her hair, he agreed to himself.

Jaimie’s eyebrows rose in the middle of his speech and something unreadable flooded her eyes. She opened her mouth in concern but was cut off with a "Hey Buddy” close behind her.

Jaimie snapped to attention as a shorter, slightly uglier version of Chris appeared. Chris’ face lit up and he made an amused noise in his throat as his brother skirted between them, patting his large arm in greeting, and giving him a half-hug. He seemed overly friendly and encouraging.

She tried to piece together the scenario.

The younger man looked between the two of them as if she suddenly appeared and gave her a dashing smile. “Why hello there. I’m Liam. Is my big bro here bothering ya?" he asked flirtatiously, voice light and Australian as well. Chris' defended himself with a “No!” body language going a little childish.

Jaimie could feel her slowly souring mood curdle further. 

_It’s not just a slur._

She gulped and composed herself. "No. No he’s not a bother at all," she agreed, hands flying out in a waving motion. “He was keeping me company but I need to head out,” she added and moved to collected her half empty water bottle and car keys from the machine's rack. Without realizing it she slipped into a stereotypical, overly cheerful voice, speaking methodically and pausing after each sentence to let it sink in. "It was very nice meeting you, Chris. I have to go now but I enjoyed our talk. Good luck with your workout." She waved with her curled fingers, palm full of car keys. She spared Liam a polite smile but walked away internally cursing her luck.

"Bye," said Chris, waving to her retreating back. Liam watched her ass before elbowing Chris in the side with a cheeky grin. "Were you two flirting?” he asked, a good natured smirk on his lips. Chris scrubbed a hand through his hair and felt bashful. From what he’d been taught by his brothers if a woman smiles a lot, touches you, and wants to do an activity that means she likes you. He gave a shrug and said “yeah.”

“Good try, man. Next time ask if she has a sister. For me, you know?” He rubbed Chris’ arm, a more serious tone emerging. “You'll have a girlfriend one day, don't give up." He gave a wink and motioned to the treadmills. "Come on, it's getting late and we still have to cool down. Grab a 'mill."

 

========

 

On Tuesday, like clockwork, Liam and Chris walked through the gym's front doors wearing sleeveless tops and black exercise shorts, membership cards in hand. The automatic card reader on the wall had a paper sign saying 'Out of Order' and instructions to have the desk clerk scan it on a handheld device. Liam clenched his jaw when he saw the line at the booth. About five people were piled up in line but it seemed longer with everyone trying to keep their personal space clear.

Apparently the hold up was caused by a couple; a petite woman and a tall man with a head full of curly blond hair. They shared the same hair color but the textures were night and day. The woman seemed to be filling out some sort of membership paperwork or signing up for a program. The desk clerk eyeballed the line but kept an impassive face, pointing and giving instructing on where to sign. In a huff, the black lady in front of Liam threw her hands in the air and got out of line, storming out the door with a blur of pink spandex. The tall man turned to see and Chris caught his breath.

The man's face was knit in a nervous, concerned expression, one eyebrow cocked up making him look young and vulnerable. He had blue eyes, high cheekbones, a large, straight nose, and the thinnest pink lips Chris had ever seen. He was standing directly under a puck light in the ceiling that illuminated his golden curls and made his skin glow.

 _‘An angel,’_ thought Chris.

He made a concerned noise in his throat and the woman beside him looked up and rubbed the middle of his back before asking the clerk if they could step out of line as to not be a bother. "It's just, it's making my brother nervous," her soft voice insisted.

The man at the desk closed his eyes in irritation and cleared something from the computer, fingers tapping hard at the delete key. "Go ahead." With a nod the petite lady shifted her purse on her arm and took her brother’s hand, leading him to a different spot on the counter. Chris frowned at his hair turning from clear gold to dark blond in the movement.

Liam shifted and crossed his arms, taking a step forward. The clerk opened a program on the computer and picked up his card reader, scanning everyone's cards in a constant ticker of _beep beep beep_ , finishing with a man who had waited so quietly behind them they hadn't realized he was there.

The brothers pocketed their cards and went into the gym area, Chris looking back at the angel man one last time.

He didn’t see him again that day.


	2. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for RDJ's character being a rude asshole to special needs peoples.

"Ok. It's Thursday so that meansssss," Liam trailed off, making finger guns at his older brother.

"Leg exercishes."

"Bingo. Do your warm up on the rowing machine then head to the leg press and save it for me when you're done. I'm going to do the elliptical."

Chris finished his warm up rowing and had to linger against the wall as the leg press was currently taken. He looked for the TV but realized it was over him and he didn't want to get out of 'line,’ settling on listening to the program if he couldn’t watch it.

As he watched people milling about he saw the angel man and his sister. He was dressed in clinging spandex shorts and a soft grey sleeveless top but the woman wore simple casual clothing. They were being led around the room by a well built gym associate who was pointing to each machine, stepping on and off of them for example as he spoke. Chris smiled as he remembered his first day - a very friendly gym worker went over everything very clearly and eagerly, clapping him on the shoulder several times during the explanation. Liam was as much a part of the experience as Chris but pretended he already knew what things were; he pulled a muscle the next day.

"Here you go." The words shook Chris' attention. The man on the leg press wiped down the machine and patted the seat. "It's all yours."

Chris nodded and told him thanks before adjusting the weight to his own setting and sliding himself into the angled seat. He rested his feet on the metal plate and began to push, his knees tucking up to his chest before extending out. A few sets of repetitions in the gym worker walked up with the siblings.

"And this is the Leg Press. It's great for beginners and works your thighs, legs, and glutes. As you can see, you just lay back and press the weights with your feet."

Chris looked at the man and realized he was being used as an example so he continued as if not being watched. It felt a bit awkward as all he wanted to do was jump off it and talk to the angel.

"It....looks a little intense, actually, Chris," the soft spoken woman said, shifting against her brother, holding his hand and curling her arm up his. Chris snapped to look at them on hearing his name. They were not looking at him however, and he idly wondering if that was the curly haired man's name. It didn't sound like a fitting name and he looked to the gym associate and spotted an id card on his lanyard. Chris Evans Certified Trainer was spelled out in black sticker letters.

'Oh okay.'

His gaze went back to the pair and saw the curly haired man was watching him, eyes locked on his t-shirt. From the angle, his golden hair was backlit and illuminated under the florescent lights. Chris felt his heart pick up speed and he lost count of his repetitions. Absentmindedly, Chris ran a hand over the screenprinted image. That day he had chosen to wear a black t-shirt with a kangaroo in boxing gloves emblazoned across it. It had been a farewell gift from his parents when the three brothers moved from their homeland to the states.

"Ah. It looks intimidating but it's really not difficult at all. However, if you want to focus on your leg muscles and get in some cardio, a good old standby is always the treadmills," Mr. Evans said, voice lilting in compromise.

"Oh, Tom loves to run. Don't you, Tom?" she smiled wholeheartedly, demeanor changing as she looked up to her brother. Tom shifted on his feet, and seemed to ignore her comment. She stopped his hand as he reached out to try to touch Chris’ chest.

Mr. Evans cleared his throat and continued, "Great. It's one of the last stops on our tour."

Chris sat in the machine a little longer after they moved on.

_‘Tom.’_

He felt preoccupied with finding out more about the stranger and abandoned his workout, having already lost count of what he had done while watching the conversation happen before him.

He stayed reclined on the angled bench and scanned the room for Liam, looking to the cardio machines and seeing nothing but high school girls and a few odd men here and there. He claimed the machine a little longer, as he told his brother he would. Finally he spotted his bro standing by the changing room doors leaning an arm on the wall as he spoke to one of the teenage girls. Chris rolled his head away from the sight and pressed his full lips into an irritated line. He got up and crossed the room quickly, not bothering to wipe down the press. His large, quick stride brought him between the pair in seconds.

"Brother," Chris bellowed before lowering his tone. "I saved you the massine but you did not come."

Liam's smile fluttered into a grimace and then an apologetic expression. “I'm sorry, Chris. I got caught up talking to Miley, here," he said, introducing the two. The girl didn’t look much younger than Liam so she had that going for her. She had long dark hair and a face that reminded Chris of a chipmunk.

"Oh is this him? Awwww you're so sweet taking care of each other," she cooed in a nasal whine. Chris made a face and pulled away when Liam rubbed his back with a self satisfying "What can I say?"

He was mad at his brother for ignoring their plans and insulted that he was talking about him to the girl. And he really hated that sugary whine she made - he’d heard it before and associated it with a negative feeling. _Pity._

Liam called it being his ‘wing man’ but Luke and his wife railed on him for using Chris’ disability as a way to pick up women. As soon as it left their mouths they made sure to explain that he could be and do anything he wanted to just like everyone else. He knew that; he’d been raised on that principle but he felt his ‘naturally low IQ’ held him back from being treated like everyone else.

He thought of Jaimie with her pretty dark hair and how he wished he could have felt the silky weight of it. Chris snatched his water bottle from where Liam left their stuff and headed to the treadmills to run off his frustration.

\---

Chris put the treadmill setting on high and jogged for several minutes with his eyes closed listening to the pop songs on the PA speaker. The song faded into a bracket of commercials, a peppy liquor store jingle catching in his head before moving on. Opening his eyes Chris focused on the monitor and zoned in on the the sound of his own feet until he heard a mishmash of beeps to his left.

Looking up he was surprised to see Tom standing on the treadmill next to him. Some time between the liquor jingle and the motorcycle insurance the beanpole of a man must have ghosted up next to him. He was staring intently, reading the monitor, a finger floating over the buttons. He pressed them gently in no particular order. Chris automatically turned his machine off; he had his chance to meet his angel man and ask him-

He hadn’t really thought about what he wanted to talk about, just that he liked his hair and thought his bum looked good in those tight shorts and that he’d like to be his friend. Chris had been a social butterfly in his high school class but that was a long time ago and making friends in public places seemed to be a difficult thing for anyone to do.

“Do you wahnt help?” he offered. Tom didn’t react at first but he looked up when Chris’ hand came out and pressed the treadmill to life for him. Tom’s thin pink lips formed an ‘o’ and he smiled at Chris, bare legs swinging in long strides. It was on the first setting of a ridiculously slow walking pace and Chris pointed to the speed settings and explained which arrows to press to walk faster, slow down, or even run. Tom’s soft blue eyes followed his movements, curls shaking vigorously as he nodded. His mouth twitched up in a shy smile and then a little grimace crossed his face and he looked away from Chris.

“T-thank you,” he managed. His voice was light but not unmanly - it sounded nice.

“No worries. You’re nameh’s Tom, right? I’m Chris,” the taller man went on, “Where did your sister go?”

Tom looked perplexed and slightly scared that this ‘Chris’ knew his name. He swallowed hard, sorting through his feelings to find his voice. Tom had trouble with verbal communication and social situations. He could understand things pretty well but expressing his own thoughts and feelings was beyond difficult; it felt like the emotions in his chest were a storm that threatened to rise up and spill from his mouth like a cresting wave. His new speech pathologist, Mr. Windsor, did exercises with him and instructed him to count to ten to try to make the ‘wave’ go back down but it only worked some of the time and he would still stumble over his words when he managed to force them out. Eye contact and staring were also a problem but they’d yet to find a therapeutic teacher in the area.

“E-Emma. She- eh. She’s in the loo. Mm. Run...run..run.” Tom ended the sentence with a low strangled sound and covered his face with both hands before scrubbing them through his hair. He looked more and more overwhelmed as the seconds ticked.

“Are you oka-

“I want t-to run!” Tom cut him off suddenly, voice loud and watery with panic. He shook his hands in the air and jerked his legs, jumping a little on the slow moving platform. Letting out a breathless whine he pressed his palms into his eyes, mouth open and teeth grit. It felt like his storm was spilling out. He went back to flapping and self stimulation.

Chris looked around the room concerned in case he needed to get Tom help. A woman was eyeballing Tom from her seat at a cycle but pressed her earbuds deeper into her flushed ears. He didn’t see Liam anywhere and the hallway to the bathroom was at an angle he couldn’t see down. He stood there wanting to pull the thinner man into a hug but his panicked movements scared him a little. Instead, he fulfilled Tom’s wish to run. He reached over and pressed down on Tom’s up arrow sending the machine’s rolling track around itself faster.

Tom adjusted to the rising pace but still flapped and rubbed at his eyes with a pained expression. Chris looked between the button and Tom, raising the speed until the willowy man stopped the startling movements and broke into a steady jog and then a full on run, arms coming to pump at his sides. He let out a loud sigh and ducked his head, running with his eyes closed and, presumably, listening to the radio. Chris was relieved that he was relieved and stood there watching him awhile to make sure he was okay.

Tom looked rather pretty with his long eyelashes resting on his flushing cheeks, mouth open.

_Panting._

The thought, the feeling, and the primal want came out of nowhere. Chris did what Luke told him not to do and gave himself a solid rub between the legs.

From a high window on the wall Chris could see the sky turning melty orange with sunset. Wherever Liam went he didn’t seem to be coming back anytime soon so Chris turned his machine back on and kept his new friend company.

\--

They jogged in relative silence until Tom’s sister rushed up looking panicked and apologizing to the air before she was even in hearing range. She looked to be in her late twenties with a pleasant face, wavy honey hair, and the same light colored eyes as her brother but they seemed to carry a silent burden behind them.

“Thomas! Oh Thomas I’m so sorry. Nanna called me and I only had service by the loo and I couldn’t hang up on her and you know how she is,” Emma rolled off, doing the same eyebrow thing Tom does but with more... _flair_. From her nervous energy it was plain to see she must not leave him alone often.

Emma didn’t have much to do and though she was dressed in a casual blouse and jeans, she didn’t exercise; it was clear she was only there for moral support. “Thomas be careful,” she chided softly, hovering between the men's machines to read the monitor. She scanned her brother up and down for nonverbal response.

Before she had arrived Tom lowered his speed setting after some time of true, vigorous running and had given Chris an exasperated smile that was just as good as any words. He had a very expressive face, Chris noted. He seemed to make a ‘yes, mother’ expression at his sister.

_Sassy thing._

Chris wanted to encourage his new friend. “He’s okay. He’s doin’ real good,” he told Emma.“Tom runs real fast,” he added with a grin and a thumbs up. Tom didn’t respond but his high cheekbones turned another shade of pink at the praise and he mimicked the gesture in his sister’s direction. “Fast,” he muttered.

Emma was surprised to hear the stranger speak of her brother; he looked like a gym rat with his blond bun and giant arms. Hell, he had sweaty man cleavage coming out the top of his shirt. She thought it was one of those unspoken, basic human rules to not make eye contact or conversation at the gym lest you humiliate yourself. The gym was already an awkward place to be what with the distasteful noises people made, all the grunting. At least he seemed pleasant.

“Um. Hello. How do you know Tom?” She ran a finger around her ear out of habit but her hair was already tucked back.

“We just met, accaly. I showed him how to use the massine and we’ve been runnin’,” Chris said with a smile, darting a glance at Tom. He licked his lips absently. “Are you angels?” Chris asked, not stopping himself. Emma was taken aback but flattered. She spent her whole life taking care of her Autistic brother, opting to be a teacher’s assistant in the school for special needs back in London - she knew automatically that Chris didn’t just have a speech impediment. Her face softened and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Well, thank you for taking care of Tom for me while I was away. I can say that _I’m_ not an angel but I _have_ found a feather in Tom’s bed before,” she said, tilting her head from Chris to Tom and lighting up in a playful smile. “Are you hiding wings from me, mister?” She asked playfully. Tom breathed a ‘heh’ and she rubbed the side of his soft belly where she knew he was ticklish. Tom burst out an adorably loud _ehehe!_ , throwing his head back and whole body with it, stumbling on the treadmill. “Ooh!” Emma flung her arms around him and smashed the emergency stop button on the console. Tom shook lightly in her arms from laughter and regained his footing as the machine lurched to a stop. Chris went ahead and turned his own off as well. His deep blue eyes were sparkling and his grin slowly melted from all teeth to just lips. He liked it when Tom smiled and now he knew he really liked it when Tom laughed. In the moment before his stumble he had clasped his tongue between his teeth as he let out the silly, dry little noise.

_Cute._

“OUT. GET OUT.”

Three sets of blue eyes flew to the source of the yelling; Chris Evans was herding two young people toward the entrance. “Oh no,” Chris mumbled, “That’s my brohther.”

Chris raced across the large room in seconds shouting his brother’s name and not stopping until he laid hands on him. Evans had not been physically pushing him but Chris held Liam close to his chest and asked him over and over if he was ok.

“Yeah bro, let go already,” the brown haired Hemsworth whined. His hair felt wet and it left an imprint on the boxing kangaroo’s face when he was released. Liam straightened his shirt with a defiant look at Evans as a man with brown-black hair and a goatee came storming up from the offices. 

“What’s going on out here?” the man demanded. Unlike the standard red polo shirt Evans wore, this man was dressed in an untucked dress shirt with gym pants, sneakers, and a pair of stylish purple lensed sunglasses. It was an odd mix but he exuded confidence and in that moment, an unrelenting authority.

Evans cleared his throat, demeanor changing under the scrutiny of what was presumably his boss. “I caught these two in the pool together.”

The dark haired man smirked and cocked his head to the side in mock thought. “Together-together or just _together_ , Evans?”

Evans shifted his weight and clenched his jaw trying his best not to roll his eyes at the game.  
Mr. Robert Downey Jr. was his boss, owner of the establishment, and, if you don’t count the bookstore, owner of everything in the stripmall complex. He gave his employees 20% off at the comic book shop and 10% at the ice cream parlor. He figured putting one beside a gym was a good choice, especially if you were keen on making bad decisions and had the shwarma before your dessert. After that mess you’d be dying to work out; it was a win win situation, really.

“ _Together-together_ , sir.”

Downey clucked his tongue and straightened his stance, tucking a hand into his pants pocket and gesturing with the other. “The pool’s closed on Thursdays; it’s a slow day for swimming, you see,” he said, plucking one of Miley’s soggy ringlets and giving it a stroke.

“Yeah...we know,” Liam replied for her, unable to make eye contact with anyone. “We’re sorry. It won’t happen again...sir.”

“What won’t happen again? You FUCKING in my pool, a _public_ place, or you setting foot back in here again? Because I’ll tell you right now the answer is both! Evans, escort the happy couple outside. And don’t forget to void their membership cards on the way out.”

“Brohther, what happened? What happened?” Chris asked urgently, walking alongside the small party and getting in front of them in a last ditch effort. He looked the short man in the eyes. “Why are you mahking my brohther leave?” he demanded. Scrunching up his face, Downey looked into Chris’ angered blue eyes. With a muttered “Jesus” he lifted his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He stroked a hand across his stubbled face, flattening it against his mouth and squinting his eyes one more time at Chris’ own.

“Hey there, Lenny. Your bro here did something we adults consider to be a no-no.” Liam jerked in Evan’s grasp at the pot-shot and Miley let out an insulted noise herself. Downey flicked his eyes towards them and smirked a little. “But I tell you what. I’m a nice guy,” he said as he rummaged through his shirt pocket and then his pants pockets, “and since I feel sorry for you being related to this dude,” he paused as he found what he was searching for. “Here ya go. Get yourself some ice cream next door.” Two identical slick-papered coupons were pressed into Chris’ large palm.

 _FREE 1 SCOOP CONE_ they read.

As if that fixed everything, Mr. Downey nodded at Evans and went back to the office he had emerged from. Evans corralled the damp young adults to the front doors and Liam called out for Chris to grab their stuff and meet him at the truck. Chris pocketed the coupons and returned to the treadmills only to find a man who looked like a biker had taken his place. Tom and his sister were nowhere to be found. Chris scanned the room frantically before giving up and approaching the man. He felt upset for not getting to say goodbye to his hopefully new friends.

After politely collecting the orange steel-encased water bottle from the cup holder he grabbed Liam’s small black knapsack that had been discarded against the wall. The zipper was half open; Liam’s matching water canister in blue was buried under a spare shirt but the shitty no-name MP3 player and ear-buds were missing. Chris decided to let Liam discover that himself -- he shouldn’t have left his bag alone to go...have sex with some girl he just met. Chris lingered on that thought and his heart felt heavy. He knew what sex was and basic slang terms for it but not some of the more subtle names like “‘‘together’ in the pool.” He could feel heat rise in his cheeks.

He was lonely and jealous.

All in all Chris felt he was excluded from the natural order of things, as if fate was against him in his want of achieving a normal relationship. When he was a teenager the concept of sexual reproduction was glazed over in his special education class by a seemingly embarrassed mentor, brought up many times by Liam, though in a more hands on, coarser way via porn mags and hand gestures, and finally explained properly and in a question-answer style with charts by Luke.

Despite learning the science no one spoke of the emotions. The sketchy health teacher skipped talking about dating and relationships altogether and avoided all talk of the pleasures of masturbation and sex, teaching only that sex makes babies and you shouldn’t have it until you’re married. He never spoke on the steps to finding someone to marry, especially if the seeker has a disability. Luke said the man probably felt it was rude to talk about dating relationships because not everyone in a special needs class may be able to have one. Chris felt angry at that and demanded Luke take it back. He hated being treated differently - when he could pick up on that he was being discriminated against - but more so he didn’t want to imagine his friends alone. No matter how difficult a time someone has interacting with others or caring for themselves, everybody needs somebody, he felt. Luke took it back and never discouraged him from dating after that.

Chris tucked his water bottle into the knapsack and slung it across his chest. It was comically small on his large frame but Chris didn’t know and no one commented as he left the building.

Seated in the drivers side of the rust-red Chevy was Liam with a miserable expression on his face and one arm hanging out the open window, slow baking in the fading sunlight. He kept his head reclined back and punched the horn to remind Chris where he had parked.

Chris tossed the knapsack into the floorboard and got in, plugging in his seat-belt and rubbing his eyes idly from the humidity. Liam didn’t want to talk about what happened so he affixed his own seat-belt and started the truck, putting it into reverse to back out. He was flinging his head side to side checking his mirrors when Chris reached over and slammed on the horn. “Hey! HEY!” he yelled above the blasts. Before Liam could react Chris had unclipped his belt and bolted from the slow moving vehicle. He ran diagonally through the parking lot toward a man and woman, yelling and flailing his arms as he went.

“What the fUCK. CHRIS GET BACK HERE!” Liam shouted through his windshield as he slammed the truck back into the parking space, nearly rolling up on a white Jeep in the process.

Chris was halfway across the parking lot and Liam could see him throw his arms around a man and nearly tackle him into a vehicle.

“Jesus CHRIST!” Liam screamed, looking left and right as he ran through lanes of parked cars.


	3. Day 3 finish

Emma heard running and shouting approach from behind and fumbled to get the the keys to her silver hatchback car. Her first instinct told her they were about to be mugged and she cursed her purse for being a bottomless pit.

“TOOOOOOOOOOOM! TOM WAIIIIT!”

As she turned she saw the handicapped man from the treadmills slow down and lock on to Tom. Before she could react he flung himself on her older brother to envelope him in a tight hug, mouth going a mile a minute. The noise of the impact was startling and she gasped in shock.

“Tom. Tom wait,” Chris huffed as he engulfed him in his arms. “I thought I’d nevehr see you again. I-I wahnt to be your friend. Please don’t go yet.” He grinned down at Tom’s head of curly hair and his smile crumpled.

Tom’s arms were pinned tight against his chest and he was shaking and crying, eyes darting wildly as he made loud keening screams through grit teeth - the scare of it all was too much for his fragile disposition. Chris had acted on impulse and did not consider Tom’s feelings. They didn’t know anything about each other; maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye. Maybe he left on purpose. “I...” Chris cut himself off, wordless. He wanted to make things better but now his would-have-been friend was in tears because of him. Chris’ lip wobbled and he openly sobbed into Tom’s golden curls, pressing the man further into his chest in a fruitless attempt to comfort him and an unconscious effort to bond them, to resolve the situation. Tom’s low screams stopped but he sobbed and hicked and moaned, twisting his arms as if to flap and flail in the tight space. Chris rubbed and stroked Tom’s back as he cried apologies against the top of his head. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, sound muffled and distorted. The past minute felt like the worst mistake of his life and he lost all idea on how to fix it. Suddenly Liam was at his back screaming and shouting at him, hands tugging at him but he couldn’t process it.

\---

“OH MY GOD. I’m so sorry! He’s retarded!” Liam yelled to Emma as he jerked at Chris’ arm. “Jesus Christ Chris let him GO!”

Emma had her hands covering her mouth as she stood frozen, watching it all happen. Panic, shock, realization, more panic, and now an unknown man joining the fray... The shear chaos of it all made her feel dizzy but she tried to gain composure.

“Chris!” she called, having learned the man’s name, “Chris let Thomas go. Right now. You surprised him and now he’s upset. Let him go so he can calm down. It’s okay.”

Chris sobbed loudly and uncurled his arms around the man. He blinked through his tears and looked down at Tom. From what little he could see of his face he looked pink and sickly. He wiped his eyes with the back of a hand and then pressed Tom away from himself slowly. As soon as he had mobility of his arms the slighter man began compulsory stimming, crooning from his throat and flailing.

‘Oh shit,’ Liam thought. “Please please I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Liam told her. “Chris didn’t know any better. If he’s hurt we can pay for it...just. Just please don’t press charges,” he begged, hand over his mouth and running through his hair.

Emma heard him but moved to unlock the trunk of her car and bring out a large tiger print blanket with a white, shaggy textured side and a smooth fur like side. Without a word she swept it over her thin lanky brother, holding it around him until he stopped panicking and tenderly grasped it himself. “‘Mma,” he whimpered, kneading the material and swaddling himself in the downy fluff. He looked like a pale little Eskimo and she would have said it if he were not so upset. “That’s right. I’m here. Your Emma’s here, Tom,” she cooed and helped him grab hold of a larger section so he could better rub the rougher texture.

“Chris did not mean to scare you. Did you, Chris?” she asked, looking between the two of them.

Chris was standing stock still and watching them between sniffs and drags of his forearm over his still watering eyes. He shook his head no and let loose another wave of teardrops. He looked like a child trapped in a man’s body and Emma’s heart went out to him.

“Look- Look at me Thomas,” she said, gently placing her hands on his face. His blue eyes wandered still but she knew he’d comprehend her words. “Chris did not mean to scare you. He wanted to tell you goodbye before we go home. Look at Chris. He’s scared too and he doesn't even have a blanket.”

Tom worried his bottom lip and sniffed, bringing a hand up to rub his running nose and losing a corner of his therapeutic object in the process. Emma took hold of it before he could bluster and tucked it back into his curling hand.

He peered at Chris and saw Liam rubbing his back. He was crying and looked miserable. Taking tentative steps, Tom closed the distance between them and pressed against his chest, bending and laying his face against Chris’ shoulder. Emma was saying something but all Chris could focus on was rubbing stray mucus from his nose and tenderly holding Tom. He felt instantly better, taking the gesture to mean Tom forgave him. Chris rubbed the soft material of the blanket on Tom’s boney back and felt Tom’s hands playing against his chest as well. Looking down he saw Tom was hyper focused on the kangaroo and chuckled deep in his throat.

“Chris,” Emma repeated to get his attention. “Chris. You know how you’re different?” she paused for him to respond. He nodded and she saw Liam tense up behind him. “Tom’s different, too. Surprises and change upset him. He can’t talk very easily and sometimes it looks like he’s ignoring you, but he’s not. Tom can hear and learn and respond to you, you just have to learn what he wants to tell you. If you want to be his friend you have to be very patient with him. Can you do that? Do you still want to be Tom’s friend?” she asked, voice soft but firm; it was a real question. It was a real choice. Somewhere in the explanation was the option to turn his back on a perfectly good companion. Chris looked at Tom looking at his shirt and then to her.

“Yes,” he said, voice rough from crying.

“Good. Tom likes company. I know Tom will enjoy spending time with you,” Emma said, eyes sympathetic but hopeful. She smiled and looked to the shorter, darker brother. He looked half sick from stress and was probably wishing to be anywhere else but here. Emma could not blame him, it was an unusual set of circumstances. 

“So. Can I get your name,” she asked, Liam's awkwardness spreading to her as well.

“Um. Yeah. I’m Liam,” he said, fumbling out his wallet and passing her a business card.

 _Hemsbros Lawn Care_ it read. In the middle of the contact information was the image of a John Deere tractor despite it having nothing to do with the business.

“Liam...Hemsbros?” she pronounced. Liam blustered and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s Hemsworth. It’s just...we’re three brothers so..” he trailed off with a grimace. It sounded fucking stupid when he explained it.

“Ah okey dokey, then. I’m Emma Hiddleston and my brother there is Tom,” she said, looking at him still curled around the larger man. He had overheard her and mimicked ‘okeydokey’ to Chris. Chris huffed a small laugh and pressed a kiss to Tom's forehead. He was practicing talking to Tom and watching him respond in body language. It was really endearing and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Tom falls on the Autism Spectrum. How is Chris differently-abled?” she asked, secretly hoping he wouldn’t use the word ‘retarded’ like he had earlier.

“Um. Lack of oxygen to the brain as a baby, just sorta naturally...” he searched for a good PC word, “...lacking. Low IQ, they said.”

“Well he’s very smart and incredibly thoughtful. I hope he can spend time with Thomas soon. It's been a bit too exciting today,” she said and Liam definitely agreed. She riffled through her purse for some paper, not finding any and settling on a gum wrapper. Pressing it to the trunk of her car she wrote her contact information on it. “I really do mean it that Chris can be his friend. Please don’t be afraid to call,” she said, handing him the info.

Liam internally sighed that the situation was coming to a close. The day was a bust and he wanted to go home. He put the sliver of silver paper into his wallet so it would not get lost and gave her his best smile.

“Chris. Come on, let’s go home. You can spend time with Tom tomorrow, alright, Bud?" he told him, walking up close to his big brother to pull his attention from the skinny Brit in his arms. It weirded him out that they had stood so close, near embracing the whole time he’d been talking. Whatever works for them, he guessed.

Chris gave Tom a tight goodbye hug and spoke at length about having a fun time tomorrow. His eyes lit up with memory. “Ice cream!” he almost shouted. Tom let out an excited throat noise and smiled, all teeth. “We will get ice cream, tomorroh, Tom,” Chris promised, pulling the coupons from his pocket. Tom gingerly took one from his large hand and curled it tight between his skin and the blanket in his palm. Emma clapped in celebration and validation and Liam forced a smile. They said their goodbyes and crossed the parking lot hand in hand in case Chris decided to bolt away and watch them leave or something. 

Chris eagerly buckled his seat-belt and waited for Liam to start the truck. The sky had turned a deep purple-blue and the stars had come out. They drove in silence from the strip mall, pulling onto a major road that would take them home.

Liam eyed Chris. He was overly quiet and staring out the window at the stars. “You okay, mate?”

Chris looked at him and then to the dashboard, worrying his bottom lip, corner tipped up in a half smile.

“Tom’s gunna be my boyfriehn,” Chris confided shyly.

Liam screwed up his face and looked at his brother as they stopped at a red light. “Really? When did he tell you that?” he asked, skeptically.

“He didn’t,” Chris said, voice low and bashful.

_Emma had said to watch Tom to understand what he wanted to say._

“I heard it in his eyes.”

 

-End-  
(for now?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on serializing this with the ice cream date, a Halloween/costume party, and then a sleepover with intense grinding but writing comes slow to me so I'm ending it here. If anyone would like to continue this story let me know or kick my ass into typing out more. :) This was not beta'ed but I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave comments if possible.


	4. Update

Next "chapter" of the series: http://archiveofourown.org/works/713076


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